I wrote an article in the March issue of Oklahoma Gardener. I know, it's late in the month, but I kept forgetting to tell you. It's a profile on Sister Barbara Joseph's garden at her pantry for the homeless of Oklahoma City. This is a photo which didn't make it into the magazine. In fact, I didn't submit it. When I can, I volunteer on Fridays at the pantry, and you can guess where I help. Several of us work in the garden, keeping it watered, fertilized and trimmed. However, my friend, Katie, is the creative force behind the photo below. If you live in Oklahoma, you might consider subscribing to Oklahoma Gardener because it has great photos and information particular to our region. In the March issue, Steve Owens, owner of Bustani Plant Farm in Stillwater, Oklahoma, and former host of the Oklahoma Gardening television program, wrote a plant...

I didn't think anyone would ever tag me for a meme, but my Red Dirt Sister, Brenda, proved me wrong. Here are ten random things about me that you don't already know: 1. After college, I dyed my hair the lightest shade of blonde by using 40 volume peroxide. I wanted to be glamorous, and I thought this was the way. People told me I looked like Madonna. Looking back at the photos, all I can say is that they weren't telling the truth. I looked tired and old, and I was only twenty-six. 2. I met HH when I was fifteen, and he was twenty-four. I was his sister's best friend, and he barely noticed me, but I noticed him. I thought he was the handsomest and kindest person I ever met. Years, later, when I was twenty-seven, we re-met, and the rest is history. I guess he liked...

Nine years ago, it was snowing outside. Today, it is 80 degrees F. Nine years ago, I held the soft, tender form of my youngest for the first time. Today, clad in a Life is Good t-shirt, blue jeans and navy blue Converse, she's following me through yet another garden nursery trying not to roll her eyes. She drifts away, looking for a playground amidst the trays and flats of spring flowers. I'm lost in a Viola reverie when she taps me on the shoulder and says "Can I have this plant?" Her slightly grubby hands are clasped around a rust-colored, plastic container. Silvery blue foliage peeks out from the top. A Dusty Miller. I'm not surprised at her choice. Just appalled. She is always drawn to silver, drought resistant plants like Lamb's Ears or Artemisia. Most of the time that's great. Noble even, but not now. Inside, I shudder....

Whew! I survived Easter Sunday again. I had all these posts lined up in my head for Holy Week, but I was too busy preparing for the big day. I'll do them next year. Easter at our house is a grand event and not just because the Lord has risen. All of HH's family (anywhere from twenty-eight to forty-three people) and my little one (two or three) descend upon our house bearing food and candy-filled plastic eggs; except Grandpa, who places money in his. The tradition began years ago when our child, Ashley, now thirty-one, was our only one. We start the day with church. Then, we run home, usually stopping at the store for last minute items on the way; we set up the remaining tables; put out what's left of the Easter decorations; and make last minute food. We pause, take a deep breath and the doorbell rings....